


In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You

by SoloArcana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Business owner Dean, Cop Castiel, Inspired by the internet, Pizza Shop, Prank Calls, Russian Castiel, pizza puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloArcana/pseuds/SoloArcana
Summary: “No no no, you’ve got to do The Voice! Make it scary!” Gabe insists. Castiel-Cas, rolls his eyes, clears his throat, and speaks again. His voice is deeper, gravel over whiskey, and his accent is heavier. “Gabriel says you are having problem with caller?”
Comments: 18
Kudos: 95





	In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You

**Author's Note:**

> I freaking love hanging out on PalominoPup's facebook group. The folks there never cease to come through with gifs, memes, photos, etc to turn into amusing fics. At least, I hope you're amused. I amused myself, so at least one of us will be entertained. :D 
> 
> There's a paraphrased quote in here from one of my favorite BBC shows. If you recognize it, let me know!

  
  
  


Dean is fucking exhausted. It’s Friday night, and in many houses across this land, that means it’s Pizza Night. And Pizza Night means that Pie Hard is balls-to-the-walls busy. Kevin is off studying for some AP exam, the local college team has a home game tomorrow, and it seems like every third person in town wants at least one pie, if not more. He’s short-staffed and even shorter tempered, so when he picks up the phone to a heavy breather on the other end instead of a customer, he’s less than thrilled. 

“Yeah, well fuck you very much, buddy!” He slams the phone down on the desk and storms back into the kitchen. Dough doesn’t knead itself, after all, and Charlie’s still on her thirty. 

“What’s that all about?” she asks, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging. 

“I thought prank calls went out when they invented caller ID, but it still seems to be a time-honored tradition.” Dean takes his frustrations out on several innocent balls of dough, pulling tickets as they come. “Some asshole is calling from a blocked number, and breathing heavy on the other end. Harmless, but fucking annoying. With Kevin out, and whatever it is that’s happening in town tonight, we don’t have the time to deal with this crap.”

“You stay back here and throw some dough, and I’ll woman the front and phones for a bit. Deal? I’ll even call Claire and see if she can help out for a bit.”

Dean slides a pie into the brick oven behind him. “That’d be great, Charles. Let me know when you need help.”

She throws a Vulcan salute over her shoulder and settles behind the computer to check their on-line orders. For a while, everything goes as smoothly as it can. Claire comes in, and with two of them in the kitchen, Dean gets caught up on orders. He’s taking a moment to talk with Gabriel, one of their earliest regulars, when he hears Charlie on the phone. 

“DUDE. I’m not even into dick, but if it fits in one hand, you can keep it!” she slams the phone down and makes a disgusted face. “This is one reason why I play for the other team. The amount of creepy, gross phone calls from chicks is nearly non-existent.” 

Gabriel leans on the counter. “Problem, Red?” 

“Yeah, some creep keeps calling from a blocked number and making nasty comments. We’re too busy to deal with it, and it’s gross.” 

Gabriel grins. “I think I can help with this. Let me go call my brother.” 

Dean’s ears perk up. He’d been friendly with Gabe since he opened Pie Hard, and they’d talked about their respective siblings (just try to get Dean to shut up about Sammy graduating law school next month,) but no one ever came in with him. Dean thought they were all out of state. 

“Hey, Baby Bro! How about splitting the best pizza in the city with your favorite brother?” Gabe is quiet for a moment. “Of course I’m your favorite, why wouldn’t I be? Oh come on, you know that was funny. Your underwear looks great in pink! Okay, fine, I need you to come and take care of something for my friends, and I’ll buy you a pizza to do it. Great, see you in a few.” Gabe pockets his phone and looks to Dean and Charlie. “He’s only been here about a week. Transferred in from New York. Said he’s only a couple blocks over, he’ll be here in a few minutes.” 

Ten minutes later, Dean finds himself openly gaping at Gabe’s “baby brother.” The guy is _stacked_. Gabe isn’t a big guy by any stretch of the imagination, so when he said he had a younger brother, Dean just assumed that meant someone close to his size and stature. 

Dean has seldom been so wrong in his entire life. Broad shoulders, big hands, trim waist and thighs that strained his uniform pants. If Dean were the praying type, he’d be praying for those pants. And that’s just what he can see from the kitchen pass through. He slides his current pie into the oven and heads out to eyeball, er, greet his newest customer. _Yes, god, please._ Up close, he’s even more gorgeous. Thick, dark hair that looks like someone has had their hands in it, just enough stubble to burn against his skin, and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen shamelessly enhanced by a blue uniform shirt. _What crime do I have to commit to get him to frisk me?_

“Dean-o, put your tongue back in your mouth. This isn’t just a piece of meat, he’s my baby bro. Cassie, this is Dean-o. Dean-o, Cassie.” 

“Cas- _tiel_ , Gabriel. Or failing that, Cas.” The god holding his hand out for Dean to shake speaks with just the trace of a Russian accent, and Dean is in serious danger of embarrassing himself in his place of business, in front of his employees. “Gabriel tells me you are having problems with a caller?” 

“No no no, you’ve got to do The Voice! Make it scary!” Gabe insists. Castiel- _Cas_ , rolls his eyes, clears his throat, and speaks again. His voice is deeper, gravel over whiskey, and his accent is heavier. “Gabriel says you are having problem with caller?” 

Just barely managing not to swallow his tongue, Dean explains the problem with the phone perv. “I have ladies working here, and they don’t deserve to be harassed at work.” Charlie throws a straw wrapper at him. Claire puts ice down his shirt. “We’re not exactly damsels in distress, Dean, we could handle it-”

“Yeah yeah yeah Charles, I know you can handle it, but you shouldn’t _have_ to is my point. If Cas here can help us out with-”

The phone rings. 

“Blocked number!” calls Claire. She hands the phone to Cas. 

The moment he speaks, Dean is done for. The man sounds downright _dangerous,_ and yup, that’s another check on Dean’s list. “You are thinking my body is for what? I am not so sure. I am thinking that your body is very fragile, will snap like twig. Very easy to-oh!” that last part was considerably less frightening. “He hung up.” 

For thirty minutes, they fill orders and watch the phone. No blocked calls come in. 

“I don’t think that particular perv will call here anymore,” Gabe says. “Cassie has been perfecting that voice since we were kids. It’s a terrible power he has, but he tries to use it only for good.” 

“So,” Dean leans in toward Gabe. “Your brother. He single?” 

Cas hears Dean from his perch at the counter, where he’s been munching on a slice. “Boris have many women.” The accent is back, and Dean’s suddenly very grateful that he’s standing behind the counter. “All are love him.” For a moment, Dean knows crushing disappointment. Of course the hot cop is straight, and apparently has a harem of women willing to take care of his needs. 

“Bro, you’re gay. And your name isn’t Boris, it’s Castiel, as you’re so fond of reminding me.” Gabriel raises an eyebrow at Cas. Cas returns the eyebrow, and Dean is Officially Done For. 

“Boris is name of accent. Has life of own.” 

*****

Later that evening, Dean gets a text from an unknown number. 

“Hello, Dean. Boris and I would very much like to meet you for drinks.” 

*****

Cas’ contact info on Dean’s phone is a photo of Cas, with the name Boris assigned to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> So there ya go, another installment in LnZ Is Writing When She Should Be Sleeping. 
> 
> The phrase "If it fits in one hand, you can keep it!" came from an episode of Mrs. Brown's Boys. Only Agnes says "If it fits in one hand, you can fecking keep it!"


End file.
